


In Between Heaven And The Sky

by suppertragedy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Gen, alternative universe, science-fiction, this is not a love song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suppertragedy/pseuds/suppertragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lu Han hates the blue sky the way some cats hate bathing. The sky has nothing good to tell him, being a constant reminder of his chronic solitude and those draconian monsters known as Angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Between Heaven And The Sky

**Author's Note:**

> **beta:** [AvaCelt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt)  
>  **soundtrack:** [In Between Heaven and Sky](http://monoire20.tumblr.com/post/76349236646)

_There is a bell in a mountain town_ __  
_Each night it rings out three times_  
_It calls out to where all the angels fly_  
_In between heaven and the sky_

 _—_ Rose Moore,  _Between Heaven and The Sky_

In hindsight, the lyrics were believed to be a premonition. In reality, the event was not poetic or pretty, and a lot more terrifying to recall. Instead of steady peals of church bells, intervals of sirens shrieked and howled. There were no fluffy, white, angelic wings, but only stretches of drab, gray, lifeless steel.

Nevertheless, it was still one of the most mesmerizing sights mankind has ever witnessed.

People of all nations over the world still remember it with a reverent awe, whether they had seen it with their own eyes or via media. It was as though the sky had turned into a giant Cyclops, waking from a long slumber. Its dreadful gaze was the open black hole to a foreign galaxy, from which hundreds of winged giants descended to Earth. When the initial astonishment subsided, a God-fearing reporter exclaimed: “They’re the angels of the Lord.”

The statement provoked and garnered a slew of mixed responses from the public; among the devout, there were hopes for divine salvation, whereas the atheists were scorned. Scientists were skeptical, and a lot of fear and denial reverberated through the masses. Later, however, the inhabitants on Earth were united by the same conclusion: God-sent or not, those creatures were indeed wrathful angels who brought with them an interlude to the Apocalypse.

Millions of believers wept when they realized that their sky did not belong to Eden.

 

 

 

+  +  +

 

 

Lu Han hates the blue sky the way some cats hate bathing.

He always thinks of the azure vastness as a depthless, soul-sucking well. Just one look and he would feel as insignificant as a grain of sand and as forlorn as the morning star. (No, not  _that_ Morning Star, but being booted out of Heaven would definitely make anyone feel just as wretched and deprived.) Anyway, the sky has nothing good to tell him, being a constant reminder of his chronic solitude and those draconian monsters known as Angels. The term once carried a romantic notion of ethereal beauty and holy creation. Now serves as a blasphemous joke and sardonic accusation at all omnipotent figures and cosmic forces that had forsaken Earth.

Nobody knows where the Angels came from and whether there is flesh or machine behind their metal-like outer shells. Their emergence invoked almost instant international calls to arm, and three days later, the United States of America and North Korea issued declaration of war with the alien race. Other nations followed suit when they realized that they couldn’t afford to be by-standers.

The war lasted for years with one third of the civilization reduced to rubbles and flatlands, but the Angels were kept at bay from most metropolitan regions. Lu Han’s hometown was not as fortunate, neither was the Boeing that carried his parents, and ever since then, people live with warning sirens in their dreams and constant dread in their wake. Many others are just dead inside with no hope for tomorrow. Lu Han is well on his way to become a zombie himself. But as often as he thinks of death, Lu Han doesn’t actually want to die.

Therefore, the young geologist is rather mortified to find himself standing next to a colossal Angel the size of two mammoths put together, in between mesas in Palo Duro Canyon. Lying underneath one of the monstrous legs is the wreck of his beloved van cum mobile home, with which he drove everywhere and cherished more than anything else. Minseok, the chief of his department, must have jinxed Lu Han with his disapproval upon his departure.  _I still don’t think the Canyon is safe yet; I hope the trip is worth_   _your life._  

His stare alternates between the ruined vehicle and the reclining alien structure. Inside, he’s torn up by devastation, fury, and fear; however, he’s also buzzed with curiosity.

It’s common knowledge that all Angels would rather destroy themselves than be captured by humans. Lu Han assumes it’s because they probably prefer swift oblivion to being dissected on lab tables. And yet this one bastard still remains whole after crashing down on his van.

Lu Han can’t help but wonder whether his survival is a miracle or yet another cosmic joke. He has escaped from the collision with only a gash on his leg, which doesn’t bleed as profusely as he’d feared. The actual problem lies in the fact that the next settlement is six-hour drive away, and here the sun is unforgiving in the middle of July. Lu Han will likely die from the heat and dehydration than from the bleeding.

The young man glares some more at the thing.

_Ah, what the heck! If I’m gonna die today, I’m gonna die today._

Purred by that thought, he hobbles towards the motionless Angel.

The machine, or whatever it is, while being sandwiched between the cliffs, still manages to look as dignified as Sleeping Beauty. Begrudgingly, Lu Han admits that the name  _Angel_ isn’t entirely wasted on them after all. The structure that he’s gazing at has a half-bee-half-humanoid shape, slender at the waist and broad at the shoulders. The wings are long stretches of flat fins that meticulously nestle against one another. The head is a smooth featureless oval. Up close, its body seems to be coated with a silvery sheen. Marbled and ghostly veins sluggishly shift underneath the surface. Looking more organic than mechanic, the thing exudes an exotic kind of beauty.  

Mesmerized, Lu Han reaches out to touch its skin.

[Do not touch me unless you have a death wish.]

He jumps at the booming voice and scuttles backwards from the thing. 

[I repeat: Do not touch me unless you have a death wish.]

[I am programmed to self-destruct at the contact of human skin.]

[I repeat…]

In spite of the terrifying surrealism of the situation, the young man rolls his eyes at the redundant monotone. Sometimes when utter terror meets indignation, the combination can make people quite reckless. In Lu Han’s case, it’s also fueled by the grudge of the loss of his beloved van. And so, instead of cowering in fear, the geologist shouts back at the monstrous structure.

“Good! Let’s go out together with a bang.”

Of course, that’s mostly frustration speaking, Lu Han doesn’t really look forward to dying in any painful or messy manner. The Angel doesn’t need to know that though. Anyway, it appears to share his sentiment on this matter.

[I do not wish to harm you. Simply desist from touching me and neither of us has to go out with a bang.]

This time, the genderless voice gains a sing-song quality to it, no doubt the machine/alien/whatever is thinking that Lu Han’s hostility is uncalled for.

Before Lu Han can pick his jaw up from the group, the Angel has rearranged its body into a sitting position with its legs pulling up to its chest. Its movements are surprisingly graceful and supple, not unlike those of a ballerina.  It takes Lu Han a good ten minutes to snap out of his stupor, and some self-generated pep talks for bravado before he can squeak out what he’s been dying to ask—no pun intended.

“What are you going to do to me?”

[I do not understand your question.]

“Aren’t you going to… kill me or… or torture me? Or do you intend to keep me as a hostage? Or maybe… a lab subject?” Faintly, he thinks he should shut up before the alien gets any ideas.

[Why should I do that?]

The monotone manages to sound incredulous at his inquiries.

[We do not take the life of innocent individuals. We are not interested in dissecting any living species on Earth.]

“LIES!” Lu Han shouts, “You have killed millions of us!”

[LIES.]

The Angel booms back at him, then starts to recite:

[At the present, the death count that we could possibly claim responsibility for is forty-three thousand, two hundred and thirty. Forty thousand and one hundred have been soldiers or armed individuals who engaged in combat. The rest were regrettable but inevitable casualties. But we are no barbarians; we do not attack unarmed civilians who have no intention to harm us.]

Oh, Lu Han has all the intention to maim and kill this slithering son of an evil bitch. But since he is indeed unarmed, he settles for snarling suicidally at it. “If you are that considerate, stop your invasion and get the fuck out of  _our_  homeland.” 

[We are not invading. We came in peace and our mission is to save the Earth]

“From what?”

[From being destroyed by the people on Earth. For centuries, your races have been harming the planet with pollution, overpopulation, extensive exploitation and consumption of natural resources, just to name a few. Our calculations show that the planet will be depleted within five more millennia. Therefore, we intend to take over the Earth in order to prevent the eventual destruction. We will replenish this planet back to its original condition. Your race is welcome to remain on Earth, so as long as they follow our new institutions.]

“That’s a fucking invasion. Have you dumbasses tried to communicate with our governments about your great intention?” Lu Han seethes.

[We have tried and failed, for our races don’t treasure the same values and beliefs. In order to save this planet, we have no other choice but to take it over. Our cause is just.]

 “How _dare_ you call a genocide a just cause? What’s a planet without its inhabitants? We are not some pests or parasites. You hypocritical  _murderers_!”

The ground shakes as the Angel gears its massive oval head towards Lu Han, whose blood drains out of his face in fright, but the man grits his teeth, plants his feet, and refuses to back down. The Angel’s sonorous voice echoes in the canyons.

[Your race is full of hypocrites and murderers of your own kind and many others. You are pests and parasites to this planet as a whole. The planet has been here long before you. It does not exist for you; in fact, you came to existence thanks to the planet itself. All species on a planet must learn to coexist with one another. Once you violate the rules of symbiosis, you are no better than harmful parasites and should be removed at all costs.]

“WHAT A BUNCH OF BULLSHITS AND GARBAGE!”

[Your governmental representatives have responded to our offer in the same manner. As discussion and negotiation proved to be impossible, forceful solution was necessary. I see that it is unlikely we will reach an understanding; therefore, I will desist from further discussion with you. Please keep your distance or I will have to put you down, though I will regret it.]

For a few seconds, Lu Han fancies the idea of committing kamikaze with the mofo. There’s something heroic and epic about single-handedly taking out a monster that needs a small army to handle. Anyway, Lu Han is no Captain America, and he is more of a pacifist than a patriot.

The geologist is so enraged that he nearly bites through his lips. As his leg wound throbs, he also feels a headache rising. The young man drags himself away from the alien, which has returned to its earlier posture. He limps along the dusty road that leads out of the mesas. If he stays with the Angel, chances are he’ll be stuck amidst an exchange of firearm once the military aircrafts spot the thing. The governments can’t afford to rescue and evacuate every unfortunate civilian. Lu Han would rather die alone in the middle of nowhere than alongside one of his kinslayers.

The afternoon sun beats down on him, mercilessly.

 

 

\+ + +

 

 

The oasis is patched with red, blue, yellow, and all the colors in between. Multihued flowers turn their faces towards the sky with merry laughter, leaves of different shapes and shades sway in a soundless waltz. The air smells like it does after rain—earthy, lush and cleansing. Lu Han sinks into the warm embrace of the muddy earth, feeling untouchable from melancholia and its host of depressive emotions. Not even the boundless sky can take that from him.

He nearly weeps when he wakes up to see the Angel’s humongous body looming over him like the angel of Death.

Lu Han closes his eyes, murmuring, “So much for keeping distance.” His scratchy voice is drowned out by the sound of rain and thunder, but the Angel hears him all the same.

[Had a nice dream?]

There is no trace of mocking in the question.

The geologist ignores the thing and opens his eyes again to take in his surroundings. He’s lying inside a shallow concave of a rock boulder. The ground underneath him levers up from the base and he’s being shielded from the rain outside by an enormous alien wing.

“Did you bring me here? Why haven’t you exploded yet?”

[You are very welcome.]

Lu Han laughs, and once he starts, he just can’t seem to stop. He laughs and laughs and laughs, until he can’t tell where his mirth ends and where his sadness begins.

Later, Lu Han will try to blame that hysterical episode on his delirious state of mind. But he knows better. It always comes back to the sky. The damn soul-sucking blueness of a space.

“No, really. You said you would explode at my touch,” He says between wheezes.

[The self-destruct function has been temporarily disabled since you are not in any state to harm me.]

“No shit, Sherlock,” Lu Han scoffs, but his voice lacks any real bite. His rationality is telling him to stop bantering to this murderous alien, but the zombified part of his brain chirps that his rationality can go and fuck itself. “Why did you do that?”

[You were going to die. And I wanted to help.]

“Aren’t you contradicting yourself? You killed thousands of us.”

[It is no contradiction. Our goal is to take over the governments, not to massacre your race. All wars have their casualties. But as an individual to another, I harbor no killing intention towards you]

Lu Han mulls over the Angel’s words and realizes some logic in it. Besides, he can’t think of a reason why this alien needs to lie to him. And even if it is playing him, he’s too tired to care. 

“Why Earth?”

For the first time, the Angel doesn’t offer him an immediate answer. Its silence is marked by something that feels like sorrow.

[Our home planet used to look like Earth]

Lu Han doesn’t fail to notice that it uses past tense.  His mind trails to his lost home. And there, lo and behold, he finds sympathy for this creature.

“What happened?” He asks softly and thus prompts the Angel into telling him of its story—a depressing fairytale of a planet that was reminiscent of Earth. The planet had been green, young, and benevolent. The inhabitants had been joyful and grateful for it. Until they were not. The planet kept giving and the people kept taking. Time flew by. The planet died from giving and could not be revived by the regretful tears of its people.

[So we left and drifted along the Milky Way, dreaming of our homeland. Until we saw the Earth.]

“Must look like a utopia for space gypsies.”

[Its beauty defies words, so is our joy of discovering it.]

The rain lifts, the story comes to an end, but a rapport has emerged between them—a quiet bonding over the nostalgia for long lost places.  Lu Han’s chest stirs with emotions he’s been trying to suppress. Right at this moment, he feels so close to his nemesis—more than he’s ever felt towards anyone. He can’t help but be drawn to the creature by an overwhelming amount of empathy.

“Must be tough being adrift in space.”

[We’re used to it.]

The Angel’s soft voice unlocks something inside Lu Han and he pours himself out with abandon.

“I felt adrift too. Sometimes when I drove, I felt like going through a void. The roads, the stars, the sceneries all seemed so surreal. So foreign, yet so unimportant. And I felt so insignificant that it didn’t matter whether I was the only existence underneath the sky. So… I think… I think…. I understand how you feel.”

 

 

[Ah, yes. You do indeed.]

 

A grin splits Lu Han’s dusty face.

That night he is lured to sleep by the warmth coming from the alien’s body. When he dreams, he returns to the same haven of dancing flowers and genteel earth. Only this time he is running barefoot on the grass with someone else. Their laughter and the winds shake the grass, sending colorful flocks of pelicans, canaries, and flamingoes into a frenzy ascent. 

 

 

 

\+ + +

 

 

There is a soft tint of orange in the horizon when Lu Han wakes up. The Angel stands erect outside, looking towards the rising sun. The young geologist feels a pang in his chest, thinking of their inevitable separation.

[I am going to leave soon. If you keep to the East, you will reach a settlement before afternoon. I healed your leg while you were sleeping.]

“Thanks.” Lu Han says simply, since he can’t find anything else to say.

[I am glad to meet you, sincerely. I think of you as a  _Zhuhuntu_ —a kindred spirit in your language—however you think of me.]

“For what it’s worth, I don’t really hate you. Not anymore.”

[That is good enough. Farewell, my Zhuhuntu.]

“Lu Han. My name is Lu Han. What’s yours?”

The Angel chants a peal of sounds that Lu Han can’t quite catch. Noticing his confusion, the Angel inclines its oval head thoughtfully. Afterwards, it says:

[Yi-Xing. That is my Earth name]

Lu Han tries the name on his tongue and likes the sound of it. It’s a male’s name. But he doesn’t ask to confirm since he’s not ready for a talk about alien gender and sexuality, though he has been rather curious about something else.

“Is this your real body? I understand if you don’t want to tell me.”

The Angel gazes at him with its eyeless face for a moment then rocks its head sideways twice, probably the alien’s equivalence of a shrug.

[I suppose it’s harmless enough to tell you. No, Lu Han, this is our spaceship and mecha. We have flesh and blood just like you Earth people. But I can’t tell you any more than that.]

“It’s alright.” Lu Han agrees, feeling cold when he thinks of all the Angels that had chosen to die inside their spaceships.

[Farewell, Lu Han.]

“Hold on!” Lu Han knows he’s going to sound crazy but he can’t stop himself, “Would you like a souvenir, no, a totem for our meeting?”

[Ah, totem! I love totems. Yes, yes, it would be lovely to have a totem of our meeting]

The young geologist beams with relief then he takes off one of his bracelets that he made with the rocks and stones he collected. A humble thing but Lu Han just knows Yixing will appreciate it as he does. He steps forwards to put the bracelet into the opening palm of Yixing’s mecha. He startles when the bracelet sinks right through the surface like a stone into water. Yixing’s genderless voice hums with appreciation.

[Beautiful. Perfect. Thank you, Lu Han. And I have something for you too.]

From the same place his bracelet has sunk down, a stone rises up. Lu Han picks it up; his tentative fingers brush the surface of the mecha, which feels cool and leathery. The stone is about the size of a chicken egg. His breathe hitches when he sees that it has the same marbling patterns as the mecha’s skin.

[It is a rock from my homeland, a national totem. Each of us carries one to remember not to ever forget.]

The geologist snaps his head up at that, his eyes widening in bewilderment. “I can’t take such a valuable item. My bracelet isn’t worth—”

[Nonsense.] Yixing cuts in, and then softens his tone. [Keep it. I’ll never forget my homeland no matter what. Keep it and remember me. Remember my planet. Perhaps, something good will come of it.]

Lu Han puts the stone on his cheek. Its warmth reminds him of the tiny heating pouches his mother used to make for him during winter.

“Oh, I wish we could live in peace together. I wish people could see that…. deep down we are connected by things that can transcend differences… We are connected just by standing here on Earth. Like the two of us. Like you and me.”

[Like you and me.]

Yixing echoes with him.

The new dawn finds the two of them standing side by side, quietly storing all those wondrous moments into the bottom drawer of their memories.

 

 

 

 +++

 

 

As Yixing said, Lu Han finds the resettlement before the sun turns unbearable. People take him in without much hassle, providing him with lodging and decent rations of food and water. He asks to use their phone line and gives Minseok a call. The man listens to his rambling about accidents and landslides, and says nothing but that he will come down to pick Lu Han up ASAP. He hangs up before the Lu Han can blurt out his gratitude.

Minseok shows up three days later, looking as pristine as he does when he’s sitting in his equally pristine office in Houston. Lu Han can’t figure out why a neat freak like Minseok would ever get into geology. If anything, his passion for anything rocky and earthy even surpasses that of Lu Han. His chief, business-like as ever, speeds off before Lu Han can even buckle his seat belt.

“Lotta samples to work on at home. You’d better make up for this when we come back.” Minseok says coolly. Lu Han shoots his boss a grimace but agrees with a nod. “What’s that? Can’t see you through my aviators.”

“Yes, boss.”

The rest of the ride is spent in peaceful and mutual silence. Lu Han feels weird, being a passenger after many years of driving alone. On the other hand, he kinda likes Minseok’s off-tune humming, which grounds him from drifting to the void.

Later in the afternoon, Minseok turns on the radio. They listen to a report about a recent combat that took place just outside Palo Duro Canyon the other day. One Angel has been taken down with non-fatal casualties on the human side. Lu Han reaches out and switches the radio to a music station. Rose Moore’s belting fills up the car:

 

_I turn my face to the sky_  
_I hear the bell as it calls out_  
_To those between heaven and sky_  
_From mountain top to mountain high_  
_Through valley far, valley wide_  
_The angels sing and the angels cry_  
_In between heaven and sky._

 

The young man turns the radio off, allowing the silence to comfort him. The totemic stone turns cooler now in his breast pocket.

 


End file.
